


Hint of Steam

by TF_Pratchet



Series: Though In All Lands [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All-Knowing Balin, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Romance, Awkward Conversations, Balin thinks this is very amusing, Big Brothers, Brotherly Affection, Crush at First Sight, Cute Kids, Decisions, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Dwalin does not, F/M, Fili Is Not Subtle, Helplessness, Mountaineering, One-Sided Attraction, Out of Place, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Phone Calls & Telephones, Protective Older Brothers, Realization, Restaurants, Surprises, Tea, Teasing, Uncle Thorin, Waiters & Waitresses, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5405303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TF_Pratchet/pseuds/TF_Pratchet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A certain Noble woman would never have expected a huge, no-nonsense mountain man to arrive in her friend Dori's tea shop. Apparently his kind and cultured older brother has coerced him into coming, but what will get him to stay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hint of Steam

Desirae Noble frankly found the scene shocking: a tall, burly man, who looked like he’d just come down from a mountain, hunched in the corner booth of the restaurant, drumming his tattooed fingers and looking as though he wished to be anywhere else.

What would someone like that be doing here? Desirae thought, suppressing a giggle and reminding herself not to judge a book by its cover. This intriguing, rugged, outdoorsy cover.

It seemed she’d stared at the man too long. Dorian, her boss who insisted on working alongside her, recalled her attention by shouting over the din, “Des, can you take the corner booth? I’ve got my hands full!”

“Don’t worry, Dori,” she assured him. “I’ve got it.” Pulling her long hair into a ponytail over her shoulder, she approached the table with a menu in hand. The customer looked up as Des centered herself at the end of the table and she was surprised to see his silver-gray eyes widen slightly before he cast them down.

“Good morning!” she chirped.

“Good mornin’ to you,” countered the second customer, who Desirae hadn’t even noticed sitting opposite the first. She glanced in his direction and realized that he must be the reason the burly man was willing to be here. He was much smaller and looked to be a few years older, more fitting to the shop’s atmosphere than the other.

“I’m Des,” she announced, smiling again as she remembered her job. “I’ll be your server today; just let me grab a second menu for you.”

As she took off, she felt a sharp pair of eyes following her trail but resisted the urge to look back.

The mountain man frowned deeply when he heard a soft, knowing chuckle from the other across from him. “What?” he demanded, tearing his eyes away from the waitress.

“You know perfectly well ‘what’, Dwain,” his brother pointed out, tilting his head with an enigmatic smile. “I haven’t seen that look on you since you told me you wanted to ask Tori Ellis to the prom!”

“If she hadn’t gone with Logan Lass—” Dwain started before recoiling from the bait being waved in his face. “—but that’s beside the point, Ben! I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

If it was possible, Ben’s warm brown gaze kindled an even greater light of amusement, but before he could answer, the waitress— _Des_ , Dwain reminded himself nervously—returned, handing them their menus.

Since he could say nothing more verbally, Ben stared pointedly, expectantly, at Dwain before turning a charming smile on Des. “Thank you, madam.”

Des groaned playfully. “Ohh, don’t call me that! It makes me feel old!”

“But you’re not,” Dwain told her bluntly, causing her to look at him with a vaguely startled expression. He didn’t really mind if she was startled, as long as he could tell her the truth—she was young and…Dwain could feel his stomach turn at the sweet words surfacing, words he’d not used since he was a stupid teenager: endearing, pretty, even _cute_ …

And she was. Long, wavy, silky noir-black hair resting against the curve of her neck, a wide and pearly smile and crystalline blue eyes. Not at all like the women he’d been attracted to in the past, but perhaps her distinction was what had caught his eye in the first place.

Des cleared her throat, sounding a bit uncomfortable, and Dwain hastily turned his gaze to his menu, pressing it between his fingers so firmly that it was starting to bend.

“Can I get you started with something to drink?” she questioned at last. The brother on her right ordered tea and the larger man—he didn’t even acknowledge that he’d been asked a question. Deciding to take that as a no, she wandered off, pursing her lips and wondering what exactly had been behind his direct rebuttal to her teasing. She knew there had been _something_ , but she was almost uneasy about finding out what it was.

Before she could get too far away, however, she heard the smaller patron release a sigh through his teeth and remark, “Quite smooth, brother. Quite subtle.”

“I _don’t_ know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Des blinked a few times, casting a quick glance over her shoulder before fighting off an incredulous smile. Smooth? Subtle? Was he…did he _like_ her? Desirae knew she was good-looking, of course; her brothers had repelled many a stupid man who had tried to put their hands on her, and if it hadn’t been for a terrible accident, she would still be married.

Again she blinked, harder now that moisture was gathering in her eyes. Even though it had been almost three years, she doubted it would ever stop hurting to think of him. Already her sons were starting to forget their father and that made it all the worse.

Her older son could remember bits and pieces of someone being there for her, but now that that someone was gone, he kept hinting in his blatant, boyish way that she should find another someone. All her younger knew was that he didn’t like it when his mother cried, so whenever his brother hinted, he agreed.

She had to push it away; she couldn’t start crying here at work! _The tea_ , she told herself sternly. _Get the tea. Just get through this_.

“Are you alright?” Dorian asked as she returned to the kitchen area. “You’ve lost all the color in your face.”

“Just feeling a little queasy,” Des answered honestly. “Would it be alright if I took a break for a minute, called my boys?”

It was very nice to have a boss who was a friend, she thought again as Dori nodded immediately, ushering her into the quiet of the backroom.

The phone trilled several times before it was picked up. “This is the Oh-So-Noble residence!”

Des startled. “Finley?”

A bright laugh from her oldest. “I learned that from Uncle Felix!”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought of her middle sibling. “Where’s Kilian?”

“Kili’s with Uncle Thorne. They’re playing soldiers.”

“Well, go get him,” Des urged. “I want to say hi.”

Talking with her sons comforted her greatly, but it wasn’t long before one of the cooks maneuvered his large, round form into the backroom and whispered, “Des, are you handling the corner table?”

“Yeah, I’ll get on it, Bobby,” Des assured him quietly before raising her voice. “Boys, I have to go. There’s a man who needs his cup of tea.”

“Is he gonna have dinner with his tea?” Finley piped up.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Could he have dinner with us? We’ve got tea here!”

Des drew in her breath at the question. “I…”

“We don’t have nearly enough for a visitor, Finley,” a deeper voice warned in the background. “And whoever she’s serving is a complete stranger.”

Her oldest brother was indispensable. “That’s right, you listen to your Uncle Thorne,” she agreed hastily. “And be good! I need to go.” Snapping her cellphone closed, she let Bobby squeeze through the door ahead of her and then set about making the tea.

The tea didn’t take long to whistle, but by the time she brought it out, she saw, to her horror, that the larger brother was bodily pulling the smaller out of the booth.

“We’ve waited long enough, Ben,” he was gruffly saying, ignoring Ben’s protests. “Let’s just go somewhere else: a _bar_.”

Without throwing the tea tray aside, there wasn’t any way to stop them, Des realized. They wouldn’t be able to hear her shout over the din and of course throwing restaurant property was frowned upon, so helplessly she watched them go.

Even without having been served anything, the brothers had left the table in disarray. Sighing quietly, Des set the tray aside and strode toward the table, straightening the crooked silverware, snatching a pen one of them had left behind, and gathering up a badly-folded napkin to be thrown away.

It so happened that she saw a splotch of ink on the edge of the napkin. As curiosity ran in her family, she unfolded the napkin’s edge and no sooner had her brows furrowed that they shot up in surprise.

Inside was a crumpled fifty-dollar bill—her tip, though she had technically done nothing for them, she realized, tears threatening to resurface. And beneath the bill, written on the napkin’s surface…

**_Maybe we could meet sometime. For tea or something._ **

**_Dwain Lincourt_ **

**_277-2340_ **

Des swallowed, glancing toward the door where Dwain and his brother Ben had exited. Another rush of curiosity gathered in her chest. Finley had been hinting so long, she wondered what his reaction would if she told him there was in fact a potential ‘someone’. She _did_ have to return Dwain’s nice pen, after all.

She also couldn’t help but wonder what her brothers would think of this. Maybe it was time to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked hard on this one, so I really hope you enjoyed! Please let me know; comments are my cup of tea <3


End file.
